


Bludgeoned

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts AU, M/M, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 01:45:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9298766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Getting hit by a Bludger is not Merlin's ideal way of grabbing Arthur's attention. But it'll do.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first Merlin/Harry Potter AU fic. I hope you like it! Unbeta'd and unbrit-picked. Probably irregular updates. Feedback appreciated.

* * *

 

He wasn't entirely sure how it happened. Or exactly what _had_ happened. He could remember Gwen frantically calling his name, and he could remember a jet black rounded object that looked an awful lot like a Bludger come flying towards his face. He thought he might’ve tried to stop the thing, but he was fairly sure he'd been in shock, and couldn't even pull out his wand, let alone think of the correct spell and cast it with any kind of efficiency.

Maybe that was how he had landed himself in the hospital wing. Again.

Later, he would probably wonder why no one else had bothered to stop the Bludger themselves. A stadium full of witches and wizards with _magic_ and _no one_ could save a poor bloke from a broken nose and possible concussion?

Waking up now, however, he was sort of a little bit grateful that no one had. Because, he reasoned, the beautiful blond boy sitting next to the cot he usually occupied in his stays at the infirmary would probably _not_ be there, or anywhere near him in fact, if events had not taken place as they had.

Merlin was, admittedly, a little bit in love with Gryffindor’s Quidditch team Captain, and also star Beater, Arthur Pendragon. Arthur had been in Second Year when Merlin had first come to Hogwarts when he was eleven and had been sorted into Gryffindor. He had welcomed him with open arms at their table, clapping him on the back and smiling beatifically. Merlin had never seen blue eyes shine quite so magnificently like Arthur’s had.

For one brilliant evening, he'd gotten to sit with Arthur and his other cool Gryffindor friends, and had promptly decided he was going to love Hogwarts.

Unfortunately, the camaraderie of that night had quickly been forgotten, and Merlin could count the interactions they'd had with each other since on one hand. But he had never forgotten that first night, or Arthur’s willingness to welcome him, and spent many a night in the Common Room just watching him from afar.

Merlin had eventually met a beautiful dark-skinned, and quite lovely Hufflepuff girl called Gwen, and they’d become fast friends. It was she who he spent most of his time with.

Gwen herself had an unfortunate crush on one of Gryffindor’s Quidditch players. Lancelot was a Seventh Year Keeper, and he was one of Arthur’s best friends. He also happened to be Head Boy, which made him especially popular with the ladies.

He wasn't sure why he was thinking about Lancelot when Arthur himself was sitting beside him, reading what looked to be a Quidditch catalogue. His hair was damp from a shower, Merlin assumed, and he was wearing his regular school robes. But his skin still gleamed golden and he was perfect as he ever was to Merlin.

Merlin scrunched up his nose at the thought, and started to wonder just how hard his head had been hit.

The action caused a spike of pain that made his eyes water and his head start to ache, and he groaned miserably before he could stop himself.

Arthur’s head snapped up at the pitiful sound, and Merlin was sure he was imagining the worry and concern that flitted through his blue eyes for only a fraction of a second, because he looked rather composed when he lay down the catalogue and sat forward slightly in his chair.

“Merlin?”

Merlin thought he really oughtn’t be so surprised that the older boy knew his name, but he really was. Arthur had never given any indication that he knew anything about Merlin at all, except that they shared the same house.

Straining to look up at him, Merlin winced. He really wished that this particular bed wasn't so close to a window with sunlight streaming in in heaps, and thought wryly that he could just ask someone to close the drapes. But later, because Arthur appeared to be talking and Merlin didn't want to miss a word.

“You complete idiot, why didn't you move out of the way?” Arthur was saying, and Merlin was more than a little confused by these words, probably because they were just mismatched puzzles in his head and he was too busy staring at Arthur in awe at actually being here. With him. For whatever reason.

Come to think of it, why _was_ Arthur here?

Finally, after much more deliberation than Merlin would ever admit, everything snapped into place. He didn't move… the flying Bludger… Arthur was a _Beater_.

“That was _you_?” he squeaked (in a very manly-like manner).

Arthur blinked, startled at the outburst. Then his face screwed up, rather unattractively in Merlin’s humble opinion, and he started to sputter defensively. “I didn't do it on purpose!”

Merlin raised his brows in surprise, unused to seeing Arthur so flustered.

At this look, Arthur poised himself into a more placid temperament. “Anyway, like I was saying, you should’ve moved out of the way. Honestly, it was your own fault as much as mine.”

Merlin blinked. _What?_

“ _My_ fault?” Merlin was ruffled, feeling rather indignant. He hadn't even been placing blame (well, he hadn't been trying to), so why was Arthur getting so defensive? _He_ wasn't the one lying injured in the infirmary with what felt like a newly healed nose and a massive headache.

“Yes, that's what I said. Keep up, would you?” Arthur said with an air of pomposity.

Merlin couldn't believe what he was hearing. Well, okay, so he probably could. Watching Arthur as much as he did, he learned a thing or two about the other boy. For one, he probably wasn't the nicest person one would ever meet.

He was loud and cocky, undeniably intelligent and more clever than was probably good for him. And he was proud.

An untoward quality, as was being showcased quite clearly at the moment.

When realizing Merlin wouldn't be finding any words that would fit together to form any kind of coherent thought anytime soon, Arthur stood up in a flurry of black robes and a flash of red.

He cleared his throat, looking slightly uncomfortable, and said, “Well, I’ll be going then. I was only here to make sure you were all right. Clearly you are, so…”

He waved vaguely, and strutted out of the infirmary without so much as a glance back, slamming the door loudly on his way out.

The noise rattled Merlin's head.

Merlin still wasn't completely sure what in the hell had just happened, but he knew that he'd never thought of Arthur Pendragon as an arse before, being much too busy being infatuated with him.

As it were, he was certainly thinking of him as one now.

 


End file.
